On luck
by anotherbuskitten
Summary: Dustfinger muses about luck and apprenticeship.


Maybe I was harsh on him, Dustfinger thought later as he rested his head against the tree trunk and stared at the twinkling stars, but the boy had been too old to learn his trade and children these days were so impatient, so quick to change their minds and yet...and yet.

Maybe if I hadn't been with the others, he thought, if I had been by myself he might not have asked. It was like Clouddancer said:

'When you're with us you put on a show but when you're by yourself you aren't flashy; you're like a woman teasing someone, coaxing them into it: you make them flare up and fight.'

But was this right, certainly the magic of the flames was harder to find when he was in a crowd so that when they did come it was flashier than he liked, although the crowds liked the flashy tricks more than the subtle ones and he could normally earn more from them.

"Can I be your apprentice, sir?" The boy was around sixteen; far too old to begin learning, almost an adult and yet still a child, still expecting life to be easy.

"No." As soon as he says it he hears the finality in his voice, and wonders where it came from, when he speaks again he tries to sound kinder "You're too old, you have to start while you are still a child."

"I'm a fast learner" his voice was steady and his blue eyes stayed focused on Dustfinger's grey but when Dustfinger surveyed him he looked away. He would be a runaway out to seek his fortune, to make a name for himself, they always were, most of the strolling players were runaways, he wasn't though maybe if he had been he would have been more sympathetic to the boy, but no, he had been abandoned and only luck had saved him that time, luck had smiled upon him then just as it had done so much before, briefly he wondered if and when his luck would run out. Behind him he could see the Black Prince and Clouddancer laughing at a joke, they were ready to go. He picked up his bag and whistled for Gwin but the boy grabbed his arm,

"Please, just let me come with you" Dustfinger shook him off angrily,

"Fire-dancing needs time to learn, to become acquainted with the pain the burning brings. There are far easier arts to learn, go ask one of the others"

"Just give me a chance, please?" He was whining now in that way children have and Dustfinger inwardly groaned; it sounded like his own daughter who already had him twisted around his little finger and who he could never say no to although that was partly guilt at never staying with Roxanne, at always leaving, travelling. Guilt at never staying with his children and he felt uneasy; maybe he should check up on them, make sure nothing had happened.

He heard the boy speaking and pulled himself back to reality.

"What?" He said cutting the boy off mid-sentence.

"I said, just light me a match and watch me play with the fire and then tell me if I can be your apprentice" he looked up hopefully but Dustfinger's eyes had grown cold and his voice when he spoke was harsh,

"Fire is not a toy or a plaything, it is not something that can be tamed or controlled" out of the corner of his eye he could see the other two drawing closer. "You have to talk to it and you do not have the right words to do so, you would expect it to obey your every order and you would give up as soon you failed." The others were just behind the boy now and their mouths were twitching into smiles; they had both heard this speech at least once before. He stopped talking and moved towards them his body language indicating the end of the conversation and cutting off the boys reply; he whistled again and walked away.

As he did he heard the Black Prince say to the boy in a way that made it clear Dustfinger was not meant to hear "Don't mind him; he just doesn't like the company of people, prefers the fairies."

Yes, maybe he had been too hard on the boy, but it was too late now. Dustfinger rolled over and drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

When he woke he found himself in Capricorns dungeon and later that day he found himself in another world a long, long way from home. As he left Silvertongue's home he thought again about luck and realised that his had finally come to an end.


End file.
